


Nine Reasons Why

by MissLearn



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: 13 Reasons Why au, Alternate Universe, Anxiety, Depression, F/M, Flashbacks, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Intrigue, M/M, Qui-Gon Lives, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 17:06:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10621329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLearn/pseuds/MissLearn
Summary: “Hi... not what you were expecting? I guess I can’t blame you for that... but it doesn’t change that it’s me, Anakin Skywalker, the former Jedi who passed into the Force just the other day. So get a snack, settle in, because I’m about to tell you the story of my life. More importantly, I'm going to explain why I decided to end it. And if you’re one of the lucky recipients of this holovid, then you are a reason why.”





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I know I have a lot of WIPs but this story just would not leave me alone. It is nothing like anything I've written up to this point in that it's very angsty and sad, and to be honest that puts this way out of my comfort zone.
> 
> It is based on the Netflix Series 'Thirteen Reasons Why' and I will be pinching a line here or there to remind you of such; however it is set in the Star Wars Universe, roughly just before the start of RoTS. It is primarily Obikin, however there will be smatterings of Anidala. 
> 
> Please note all the warnings/tags and watch out for changes because I will probably have to add more as I go. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this, or at least appreciate the message/moral that will hopefully shine through in the end.

 

Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi ran a shaky hand through his auburn locks as he stood leaned against the door jamb of his former Master's room, watching silently as the older man slept.

The Jedi Council had urgently recalled him from a mission, desperate for help with Qui-Gon Jinn who they believed was wavering on the edge of the Dark Side. Obi-Wan was astonished to receive their comm, but he was not at all shocked to hear of his Master's condition. Barely a month had passed since Anakin Skywalker, the youngest of Qui-Gon's former Padawans, had taken his own life mid-battle after revealing himself as a Sith. The Jedi Master had been _there_ ; he'd been part of the fight and had no choice but to watch as the terrible event unfolded. Traumatized and heartbroken, Qui-Gon had hidden himself away, unwilling to speak to anyone as he, once again, sank into the darkness of depression. Obi-Wan was the first person the devastated man had allowed into his apartment and even then he had done so reluctantly, with an unimpressed scowl on his face.

Knowing better than to try and coax his Master to talk when he was in such a dark mood, the Knight hadn’t bothered with words. There was nothing he could say that would help the tall Jedi's heart heal any faster, so instead of trying to counsel he did what was needed. Silently, he'd made the dead-eyed Master tea and sandwiches, then glared until most of it was gone. With a hand on the man's shoulder, he'd led him to the 'fresher where he left him to have what must have been his first shower in days. He wordlessly remade Qui-Gon's bed and cleared away the numerous empty liquor bottles that he found around the room. And, when the older Jedi finally reappeared, he pressed a steady hand into his back, guiding him across the room until he was laying down under the crisp sheets.

“Sleep, Master,” he ordered, his tenor both firm and gentle, as he turned out the bedside lamp. It was the first thing he'd said since arriving, and the use of the honorific tore a sob from the man’s throat. The sharp sound made him squeeze his eyes shut as grief surged in his chest.

“Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon rasped. The devastation, guilt and sorrow evident in the man’s broken baritone threatened to pull him down into dark, tainted depths where his Master had been left to dwell for far too long. 

“Sleep!” Obi-Wan barked hurriedly, loading the word with a strong Force suggestion that quickly dragged the exhausted man into a dreamless slumber. The Knight then stumbled to the doorway, fighting away tears.

The news of Anakin's death had hit him just as hard as it had his old Master. The bright young man and he had grown close over the years; their friendship beginning with a shared distaste for their Master’s cooking and ending with a desperate need for each other’s words, touch and love. In some ways, they knew each other better than anyone... but in other ways, they didn’t know each other at all.

The circumstances of Anakin’s death had come as a terrible shock. The High Council had waited until he returned to the Temple to tell him the horrible details, watching his reactions with a critical eye, probably wondering if he had known something. Obi-Wan had been the only one to keep in contact with the young man after he had left the Order to live a different life with Padme Amidala, the young Senator of Naboo. But, as he had informed Council, a few comm calls snuck in between back-to-back missions was hardly going to enlighten him to his friend’s mental state. How and why Anakin had fallen to the Dark Side was as much a mystery to him as it was everyone else. 

Pulling away from the door with a sigh, he walked into the kitchen and promptly turned on the kettle. Picking out a generic, ceramic mug from the cupboard that hung above the bench, he placed it on the counter next to the rumbling appliance as he waited for the sharp whistle. As he stared down into it, he decided that its emptiness was all too like how he felt in a galaxy without his friend. Then he swallowed nervously as a memory flashed before his eyes of them standing in that very kitchen, cleaning up after one of the so dubbed "family" dinners that Qui-Gon hosted after Anakin was knighted.

_"Another mission -- so soon?" Obi-Wan questioned, his eyes darting over to where Anakin's Padawan was asleep on the couch._

_"I thought you would be glad to get rid of me," Anakin teased._

_"Don't be ridiculous, Anakin, you know I enjoy your company," he shot back._

The former Knight’s bright smile flashed before his eyes and suddenly his cheeks were damp with tears. Shaking his head and running a sleeve across his face, he let the piercing hiss of the kettle steal away his memories, returning to the here and now, where his focus belonged. He wasn’t brought back to lose himself in his own despair; he was here to pull his Master out of his. It was yet another mission. Not as formal as the ones he had thrown himself into after he had watched Anakin leave, but just as important.

The Order couldn’t afford to lose another Jedi to the dark, and he wasn’t sure he could survive losing anyone else he cared for. The Clone Wars had taken so much from them. So many Jedi had fallen, so many civilian lives lost… so many clones. The galaxy stank of death and pain and suffering, and he no longer knew how to keep it at bay. The fighting had stolen that strength, along with so much of what he believed in, of what the Order believed in. It had made them the ultimate hypocrisy, warriors for peace, which threatened to shatter his home at its core.

It shouldn't be possible. With all the years behind it and all those who supported it, the Order should be stronger than it was. Unfortunately its foundations were already weakened by a sprawling spider web of hairline cracks that had remained unseen for far too long. There was no blame to lay. They weren't so easy to spot.

Not unless you knew Anakin Skywalker.

The now passed former Jedi was what Master Windu called a shatterpoint in the Order. He was a weak spot that even more fractures spread from, winding and weaving their way through the Temple, threatening to bring it crashing down. It was never his intention, and certainly not his fault.

Anakin was brought to the Order at an age considered too old, wielding unmatched power too easily and labeled the prophesied 'Chosen One' too soon. It had been too much for the Temple-raised Jedi to cope with, and ultimately became too much for Anakin.

 _"I can't_ **_be_ ** _here anymore, Obi-Wan!"_

Blinking out of his thoughts and memories, Obi-Wan slowly realized the boiled water had cooled, and the bottom of his mug was still as dry and empty as it had been when he pulled it from the cupboard. He let out a small sigh. The blanks and blurs of time happened a lot when he was at home. There were too many triggers in the Temple. On missions he could forget. They hadn’t been permitted to partner too often, especially after the war started, as they were needed on separate fronts. Though, strangely, they were often on leave in the Temple concurrently, thus it was here that the shadows and echoes of what was haunted him.

_Obi-Wan had tears streaming down his face from laughing as he looked up from Qui-Gon's and his half-made teas at the Knight who was stood on the opposite side of Qui-Gon's bench. "Only you could accidentally poison yourself, Anakin!"_

_"You guys are being so unfair. I mean, how was I supposed to know that there wasn't supposed to be blue granules in the tea? I don't like the stuff, and it's not like either of you let me make yours..."_

Taking a long breath in, he forced himself to focus and glanced around, once again taking in the disgraceful state of the apartment with disgust. The tables were cluttered with bottles, half-full tea cups, and dusty, untouched data pads. The ground was strewn with clothes that hadn’t made it to the laundry and shoes that hadn’t made it to the cupboard. Plates with half-eaten, unhealthy snacks sat forgotten and festering on the lounge and side tables and the once vibrant potted plants were withering, long forgotten.

Foregoing the tea, he resigned himself to the mindless task of cleaning, hoping it would exhaust him to the point that he too could fall into a dreamless sleep.

 

Obi-Wan awoke the next morning to light and warmth streaming across his face through the cracks in the vertical blinds that dressed the apartment's large windows. Stretching himself out on the couch like a lothcat (he hadn’t been able to bring himself to sleep in Anakin’s old bed, even though it had once been his own), he groaned at the sharp pain that flared in his neck and back. While his Master's couch was vastly more comfortable than some of the other places he had slept recently, his body wasn't thanking him for spending yet another night away from his bed.

“You’re awake." Qui-Gon's voice rang out, abruptly interrupting his thoughts.

The words startled him so much that he fell off the couch. A loud "oomph" escaped his lips as he landed awkwardly on the floor.

The silence that followed was eerie; it wasn’t that long ago that his folly would have, at the very least, brought a quiet chuckle to the older man’s lips. “I am,” he grunted into the plush carpet. Pushing himself up with muscled arms, he knelt, sitting back on his heels.

Obi-Wan raised his gaze to meet his old Master’s, dutifully taking in the improvements in the Jedi’s appearance; fading bags under his midnight blue eyes, brushed and braided long hair, and the better color of his skin. Yet, he was certain it would still take time before the man resurfaced, which was to be expected, no matter what the Masters thought.

The tall Master was standing in the kitchen, meticulously brewing two cups of tea. It was so normal that Obi-Wan could have tricked himself that everything was as it should be... if not for the agony that whispered behind his Master's shields and the utter sadness that lingered in the apartment.

“How--” Obi-Wan stopped abruptly, knowing it wasn’t the right question. “Are you feeling any better?” he asked instead, using the couch to drag himself up to his feet. He didn’t need to say anything, but the silence was starting to bother him. Since Anakin had become Qui-Gon’s apprentice, the apartment had been loud. Whenever he visited, even after Anakin had risen to Knight, the place was bustling with energy, noise and life.

There was a long pause before Qui-Gon replied, leaving Obi-Wan to watch as the man dropped lemon into their tea, then slid one mug across the island bench, wordlessly asking Obi-Wan to join him.

“I don’t feel worse, which is an improvement,” he admitted quietly.

Obi-Wan canted his head to the side, noticing a wariness in his Masters eyes he had never seen before, something that seemed out of place, even considering the circumstances. “I’m glad,” he said honestly.

The taller man frowned and took a long sip of his tea, all the while staring at him with a look a deep contemplation on his face. “Are you?”

Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed. “Of course I am,” he replied, startled by the question. There was a long pause before he gave into his curiosity. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You loved him,” stated Qui-Gon matter-of-factly, as he lifted his cup to his lips.

Obi-Wan blinked. "Love" wasn't a word often used by the Jedi, even if it was felt, and he certainly never expected to hear it from his Master's mouth. “Well, yes. He was my best friend,” Obi-Wan pointed out, feeling utterly confused, and a little wary. They had never told Qui-Gon... He was sure Anakin had never said... Shaking his head he guessed at other reasons why his Master was suddenly acting so out of character and added, “I don’t blame you, if that’s what is worrying you. An--Anakin. He made his own choices.”

A growl ripped from his Master’s throat, and he found himself taking a step back, putting more space between him and the Jedi Master. Without thought, his eyes slipped to Master’s hip where he was relieved to find the man was unarmed.

“I don’t need a weapon to hurt people,” the older Jedi snarled bitterly, catching his gaze.

Obi-Wan considered Qui-Gon’s tormented midnight eyes for a long moment, wondering if he was too late. Fear twisted mercilessly in his stomach at the thought of having to fight the man who had raised him, the man who was his Father in all but name. “Master--”

“Don’t call me that!” Qui-Gon snapped at him. “I don’t deserv--”

“Don’t you dare,” Obi-Wan hissed, cutting in as an old anger suddenly took hold of him. “Don’t you dare do to me what you did to Feemor! Not after our start. Not now, not in Anakin’s name!”

The silence that followed felt like ice, not only bitterly cold, but frozen, nothing moving but the slow second hand on the ancient chrono-meter that hung on Qui-Gon’s wall. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, waiting for the man to strike him. It wasn’t something that Qui-Gon had ever done, unlike other Masters he had never used pain as a punishment, but he could almost taste the larger Jedi’s desire to hurt him now. Thankfully, it never came and when he dared to open his eyes again the weary man had a hand across his own face and tears were rolling down his cheeks.

“Oh, Qui-Gon,” he sighed, choosing not to tempt fate by using his title. He rounded the bench and approached carefully, then pulled his Master into a hug.

It was… odd.

Qui-Gon was not at all tactile when it came to displays of affection. Actually, displays of affection were a rarity, and were often so subtle they were easy to miss. Coupled with the fact that he could easily be blind to other people’s feelings, it wasn’t surprising that Obi-Wan had spent most of his apprenticeship and much his Knighthood wondering if the man cared for him at all. It wasn’t until recently, not long after Anakin left the Order, when he had been feeling particularly needy, that he had dared to straight out ask the man. The shocked “Of course, Obi-Wan!” made him wish he had found the courage years ago.

“I wish you’d told me,” Qui-Gon said quietly.

Obi-Wan frowned. “Told you what?”

Qui-Gon sighed sadly. “You honestly haven’t watched them yet,” he muttered, and Obi-Wan could feel his relief, and his frustration. Though, he didn’t understand what he had - or hadn’t - done to cause such a mix.

“Watched what?”

Qui-Gon took hold of his shoulders and pulled back, holding him in front of him as he searched his face with his eyes. Sighing again, the man looked down. “You need to go back to your apartment, Obi-Wan,” he told him, his voice breaking.

Obi-Wan stared at Qui-Gon blankly for a moment, before hurt burned through his chest. Once again, he wasn’t wanted. Not even after the help he had given so freely. Nodding, he dropped his gaze to the ground. “I-I apologize for the intrusion then, Master." It came out colder than he meant it too, but maybe he could be allowed this moment of caring for himself first.

“No- Obi-Wan, you've got it wrong. Just… You’ll understand once you have seen them. You are welcome here if you wish to see me afterwards… Padawan.” Obi-Wan’s brow creased as the man led him towards the door. “My advice to you is to get some rest first, because there is little sleep to be had after you start,” he added regretfully.

Qui-Gon’s hand left his shoulder as he exited the apartment, and by the time he had turned to ask what his former Master meant he found the door closed, the name plaque, which read “Jinn” glaring at him, reminding him of his place.

Shaking his head, he set off towards his own apartment wondering what in the blazes was going on.

 

It didn't take Obi-Wan long to get back, but as he opened the door he remembered why he preferred to be away. Returning to his quarters was anything but comforting. The air was cold and stale, and the layer of dust that had settled over everything made his eyes water and his nose twitch. Plus, everything reminded him of what was missing.

Ghosts of memories appeared before his eyes, reminding him of those treasured times when the small apartment felt like home, when it was a place filled with love and laughter. His gaze wandered around the room, until it landed on the enduring, spiky succulent on the bookshelf that Ahsoka, Anakin's Padawan, had once put on Anakin’s seat beginning a prank war between the two that had lasted two hilarious months. Tacked to the side, just above the plant, was the triangular flag from an underground pod race that Anakin had dragged him out to watch. It was where, hidden among the roaring crowd, the younger man had first kissed him. He closed his eyes briefly as he was overwhelmed by the memory of the charged atmosphere, the excitement and dismay that echoed in the Force, the smell of exhaust fumes mingling with vinegary fast food and cheap perfume... the feel of that warm mouth on his own...

_“An-Anakin!” he gasped, eyes blown and cheeks flushed._

_Anakin cracked a grin, his hands still on the sides of Obi-Wan's face. “That was even better than I thought it would be!"_

Forcing himself to breathe as his chest seized, he blinked his eyes open, to find himself looking at his infamous favorite teacup which was painstakingly glued back together by an apologetic Anakin. Above that, on the highest shelf was an old photo that rested against a row of books. It was of Queen Amidala, young Anakin and himself on Naboo during the peace celebration.

_“Do you think we could be friends now? Or am I still too dangerous?” Anakin asked him, while they waited for Qui-Gon._

_“Well, technically we’re brothers now… so I suppose I will just have to keep you in line, hm," he teased as he mussed blonde locks._

Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around himself tightly as he fought the urge to walk to the nearest console and list himself as available for missions. This was why he didn’t come home. This was why he had taken mission after mission since Anakin left the Order. He couldn’t stand it here before, but now - _now_! - it was worse! Before he had been running on a log in the middle of a shallow pool, now he was in the middle of the ocean and he had stopped, and there was nowhere to go but down.

A sudden bang in the distance - a door slamming up the hall - snapped him back to reality. The wispy memories vanished leaving him alone and trembling, standing in the middle of his apartment. One deep breath after another steadied his hands as he painstakingly broke his promise to Anakin once again.

_“ ...you promised me you wouldn’t let this go, that you would feel this no matter what…”_

Trying not to feel guilty, he gave the emotion to the Force, watching it float away like a bunch of blue balloons that had torn themselves from the small hands of a child.

As his awareness sharpened he moved, silently chiding himself for standing aimlessly for so long. He walked into his kitchen, which was just a bench and series of cupboards tucked into the back corner of the small, rectangular living space. It was missing the large island bench the Master-Padawan suites boasted but the earthy coloring and the stone bench top was the same as the one in the apartment where his Master lived.

After a brief look in the cooler and pantry, he decided he wasn’t hungry and settled with munching on a bland ration bar, but only because his Medic had threatened to go to Vokara Che if he got any thinner. There wasn’t much time for eating on the battlefront, and he would often put aside his hunger. But he had to admit it wasn't the only reason; lately, he simply did not feel hungry.

A single glance at the door across the way was enough for him to decide not to enter the bedroom; he didn't want to have to break his promise twice in one night and the memories there would probably break him. Instead, he chose to drop onto to his couch and sink down in the cushions that, despite being newer, weren’t nearly as comfortable as Qui-Gon’s.

The Knight was pulling off his second boot when it caught his eye. Sitting on his small kitchen table, was a neatly wrapped box. Curious, he stood up and slowly approached it. With the enemies that he had, it could be anything and it wasn’t worth taking any risks. Carefully he probed it with the Force, hoping to get some sort of indication- then abruptly froze when he sensed a whisper of Anakin’s Force presence on it.

Caution flew out the window and he hurriedly tore it open. There was no letter or card, just nine tiny circular disks and a small, slotted mechanical device that he had never seen before, but it looked as though it could play the-. Obi-Wan gasped and almost dropped the device when a holo of Anakin came to life in his hands after he pushed a disc into the slot. The projection of the handsome Knight, stared at him for a moment, then it - no - he spoke.

“Hi... not what you were expecting? I guess I can’t blame you for that. Doesn’t change that it’s me, Anakin Skywalker, the former Jedi who passed into the Force just the other day. So get a snack, settle in, because I’m about to tell you the story of my life and, more importantly, why I decided to end it.

"And if you’re one of the lucky recipients of the holovids, then you are one of the reasons why.”

Obi-Wan did drop the player this time, and as it landed on the table a small compartment cracked open, releasing its battery. He stared at the now silent device, as he slowly lowered himself into the cold, unforgiving seat that sat next to his table. His chest was so tight that he just. Couldn’t. Breathe. His stomach twisted into knots and his head just hurt with the effort he was putting in to understand why? What had he done? They had ended things amicably hadn’t they? They were still friends the last time they had spoken, weren’t they?

His hand hovered over the device for a long moment before he put it back together, trembling fingers struggling to get the battery in place. Then, he squeezed his eyes closed and listened to the familiar tones of his friend.

“I won’t tell you which recording you’re on, but if you received the box then your name will pop up, I promise. The rules are as follows. One: you listen. Two: you pass it on. That’s it, pretty simple huh? Once you’ve listened to all the discs, put them back in the box and pass it on to the next person. You, number nine, can take the box to your pick of the nine Corellian Hells. 

“In case you’re thinking of breaking the rules, you should know that I have left a copy of the vids with a trusted person who has been instructed to release them to the Jedi, the Senate, and to the Republic in a very public way. This wasn’t one of my usual plans. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. I’m not making this up as I go. So, don’t take me for granted."

The holo of Anakin seemed to look straight into his eyes when he firmly added, “Not again.”


	2. Qui-Gon Jinn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the time between updates, work has been insanely busy. Unfortunately I can't promise they will be any quicker for a while. Thanks to everyone who commented/kudosed/bookmarked you're all awesome!  
> Unbetaed, and all trigger warnings for mentions of suicide and planned suicide still apply.

 

 

“You are being watched.”

Obi-Wan felt a shiver travel down his spine at the cold warning in Anakin’s tone. He glanced around nervously, almost expecting to find the young man's ghost sitting across from him. He knew that wasn't what the Knight meant; though, somehow, the idea of a living person watching him go through this was even worse.

Feeling overwhelmed, he hit the pause button then dropped his head into his hands, carding his fingers through his hair. Anxiety was winding its way around his chest, squeezing tightly, constricting like a dragonsnake around its prey. He knew he needed to focus on breathing, that he needed to calm down, but he was too lost in the maze of his memories to concentrate on the now.

“Why me, Anakin?” he gasped at the small silver device where the hologram had been seconds before.

Slowly, his hands dropped from his head to his lap. He took in long, drawn-out breaths as his gaze followed them, entranced by the sparkling droplets of water that fell into his open palms. For a moment, he wondered if the roof was leaking again, until his hazy mind caught up and he realized they were his tears.

Obi-Wan hadn’t given into his grief when he had first heard, or when the Council had explained the brutal details of what happened that awful day. The closest he had come to falling to pieces was earlier, in his Master’s quarters, when he felt just how broken the elder Jedi was. So, he supposed, it wasn’t so surprising that he now had a steady stream of tears rolling down his cheeks.

The fear, anger and overwhelming regret he felt at losing his friend, at not being there when the younger man needed him – needed _someone_ – made it even harder to breathe. And to be listed as a cause… a  _reason_ … that the man who had once been his everything, had fallen to the dark side and taken his life, was utterly devastating. The pain, longing and heartbreak that had long haunted the dark corner of his heart was suddenly dragged into the light, and it burned, red and black.

The pain entwined with adrenaline and anxiety, making him want to run. The urge to return to the Outer Rim, where he could hide in his duty and do his best to forget, was very tempting. It was so easy to pretend everything was fine when he was light years away and so involved in work that he didn't have time to think.

But. Anakin had promised to have the discs revealed to the public if he didn't listen and he didn't know what was on them yet. It would be selfish of him to damage the Order, and possibly others, simply because he did not want to hear what the Knight had to say. Despite not agreeing with everything they did, the Jedi were still his family and the Temple remained his home. Plus, he knew Anakin would want him to stay, to _feel_ , and he hadn’t ever been good at saying no to the handsome Knight. Not in life, and apparently not even in death.

Anakin had always believed the Jedi were wrong to purge their emotions; that they couldn’t truly be compassionate when they didn’t let themselves feel. He hated when Obi-Wan let go, especially if the emotion pertained to him. Words had never been enough for the Knight; promises were too easily made and broken, and lies were too easily told. To believe, he had to feel. But he never came to realize, possibly because no one ever pointed it out to him, that feeling everything was mentally exhausting for a Force-sensitive. While “good” emotions felt amazing, all warm sunshine and delighted singing, the “bad” ones could be dark and cold and threatened to swallow you up, much like if one were to tumble down, and become trapped in, an ancient, cylindrical well; which, he decided, was what must have happened to Anakin.

And he was a reason why.

Wiping away tears that refused to stop, he dragged himself back into the kitchen and stood on his tiptoes so that he could pull a bottle of almost-rancid alcohol and a small glass from the top cupboard. He poured himself a shot, and threw it back, relishing the distraction of the burn as it made its way down his throat. It had been so, so long since he had indulged in a drink...

“ _Obi-Wan! Please- you have to stop doing this to yourself. It’s not healthy and it's not what Satine would have wanted… and it's definitely not what I want!” Anakin snapped, angrily, sweeping the almost-empty bottle of spirits off the table. The blue-eyed Knight ignored the ear-splitting crash as it shattered, instead grabbing Obi-Wan’s face with two hands. “No more, do you understand!” he growled before leaning in and roughly capturing Obi-Wan's lips with his own, demanding the older Knight’s promise in the kiss_...

He couldn’t bring himself to pour another, but it didn’t matter. One was enough to give him the courage to take himself back to the table, it was enough to press play.

The eerie blue hologram of Anakin Skywalker lit up, looking weary as he opened his mouth to continue.

“I think it’s best we start at the beginning – my beginning. I suppose you think you already know all about my start. You might have already heard whispers of it in the halls of the Temple. Or maybe you got the details straight from the man who found me. Or maybe you were there. The how doesn't really matter, what does is there isn’t one of you who knew all of it, and there were too few who understood what my past, and my new beginning, meant to me.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, and dropped his forehead onto the table, no longer able to look at the young man while he listened.

“I was a slave,” Anakin continued, his usually pleasant tenor momentarily laced with bitterness as the last word rolled off his tongue. “That’s what you heard, right? A slave boy from Tatooine that Master Jinn, the almighty Maverick Master, freed and then fought the High Council for. The one he pushed aside his Padawan for… A slave boy who was too old to be a Jedi, but had become one anyway because Qui-Gon Jinn thought he was the Chosen One…” he trailed off, and Obi-Wan peeked up to find the holo running a shaky hand through his hair and taking in a long breath to calm himself. Without taking his eyes off Anakin, Obi-Wan shifted so that he was sitting with his elbows on the durasteel table, his chin resting in the palms of his hands and his fingers curled at his lips as he waited for the young Jedi to continue.

“Well you’re not wrong, but that’s not even half the story! It tells you nothing about how I felt before, during and after my arrival at the Order, which was something that few beings in the Temple ever worried about. Of those who did, there was only three who did more than remind me to “let go” of my past. Only three who recognised that the change was a significant one. That I had left my home... That, unlike "normal" Jedi younglings I had already suffered a significant amount of trauma.

"It was unfortunate that the person who was directly responsible for my well-being during my first days at the Temple was not one of the three as things might have turned out differently... Which is why this is your holo, Master Qui-Gon. I hope you’re ready for a trip down memory lane because that's where we're going. You see, there’s some things I need to explain, and some questions I want to ask. Starting with, at what point did you decide to bring me back to the Temple?

"You didn’t notice me when you first visited my owner’s shop. I was right there, and you walked past me, twice. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t blame you for that. You were hardly the first customer of Watto’s to look over the small slave who helped run the shop. I just wondered what it was that made me visible, because, if by some miracle, I get the chance to go back in time, I want to make sure it can’t happen again.

"So, when was it, Master? When I offered you shelter from the deadly sand storm in that sandy hovel that I called home? Or was it when you met my incredible, kind and loving Mom? Was it during dinner, when I volunteered to help you again? Or was it when I was finishing off the pod racer so I could fly it… for you? Wait—No—I know. It had to be when we spoke on the balcony after dinner, when you took my blood, testing me for ‘viruses’,” Anakin reproached, his jaw set and hands clenched into fists at his sides. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, knowing the accusation coming and feeling terrible for his involvement in it, even if he hadn’t known what his Master was up to in Mos Espa all those years ago.

“You did a midichlorian count, didn’t you? That’s what convinced you that you had to take me back to the Order. ‘Higher than Master Yoda’s’, right? ‘The Chosen One!’” Anakin spat the last words, his body starting to tremble as his anger coursed through it.

“I get it, like I think everyone did, eventually. I was too powerful to be left behind. Untrained I could have been a danger to myself and others. I understand that, while I didn’t fit the Jedi, I couldn’t be left behind. And honestly I—I still… I still look back on the moment you freed me, and offered to make me a Jedi, as one of the happiest moments of my life. I felt so alive, so excited, so happy. It’s just unfortunate it was all consecutively followed by misery.

“But before we skip forward to how I left behind my mother, and how well my introduction to the Order went, I think it would be good for everyone to know how you acquired me, don’t you? Because, as you told me so many times, Jedi can’t just go around freeing slaves. Not unless the Senate tells us to, which, you might have noticed, it never does. So, Master Qui-Gon? How did you free me?” he asked.

Obi-Wan had never been told how Qui-Gon obtained Anakin, but based on his own experience with the Master he could guess at what happened, and the holo of Anakin confirmed it.

“You bet on me!” he cried.

“Yeah, that’s right everyone, the Maverick Master made a bet to secure a child’s freedom. Even better, the bet he made was on _me_! If _I_ won the Boonta Eve Pod Race, Watto was to free me. And while I truly was that amazing – at age nine, I was the first human to ever win that race – it was a huge risk. Did you have a plan B, Master? Was there another “solution” if I died during the meet? And, what exactly did you offer as collateral? I never did ask what exactly was I worth to you in that moment. Did you risk the lives of the people you were protecting? Was it the ship? Or was it a person?”

Obi-Wan shuddered. He was hanging on every syllable, surprised at this articulate Anakin. He wondered if the man had written it out first, if he had meticulously planned each word; he had never been this good at ad lib… but then, this was his life. He supposed that he would speak about it better than any other.

“I guess it doesn’t matter. You won—no wait—you didn’t, I did. I won my own freedom! Was that your plan, did you want me to own my freedom? If that’s the case, why didn’t you ever point out to me that I had earned it? Did you forget? Or did you just think it was unimportant? Like all those other petty little things… _Master._ ”

Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut as the title slid off Anakin’s tongue like it was poison. It seemed so obvious now that asking him to use the honorific back then was wrong.

“That’s what it comes down to. I know some of you will scoff at the reasons I throw at you. You will judge them as insignificant, minor, maybe even pathetic," Anakin spat, his eyes narrowed into a sharp glare, “but none of you can deny when small things are stacked together in towering piles, they can come crashing down. And believe me, when you’re standing surrounded by the shattered remains of all that mattered, it’s hard- it's so _hard_ \- not to fall into despair."

Obi-Wan absently reached out with one of his hands, only to feel his heart shatter when the blue light flickered, distorting as he interrupted the feed. Slowly, he lowered his fingers to the pause key, barely able to see it due to the salty tears that blurred his vision. Dragging his sleeve across his eyes once again, he let out a long, regretful sigh. It was too late. He should have been there _before_ . He should have _been there_ from the beginning. He had been so distracted by his own feelings, so hurt by Qui-Gon, that he had needed to be away from the Temple as much as possible and he hadn’t considered how that might impact on Anakin. From his point of view, they hardly knew each other back then. From Anakin’s, he was one of the few Jedi who had time for him.

And then a memory appeared in his mind’s eye. It was long forgotten, but it was as clear and sharp as though it had only happened yesterday…

_“Obi-Wan—Knight Kenobi!”_

_Obi-Wan halted in his stride, turning to look at who had called him. “Anakin?” he queried, “is something wrong?”_

_“Um- I- I was wondering if you could help me with some of my homework – it’s hard.”_

_Obi-Wan frowned, “I’m sorry, Anakin, I am due to fly out in an hour and I need to pack. Have you asked Master Qui-Gon to go through it with you?”_

_Anakin shook his head. “I don’t want to bother him too much, Sir- I mean… Knight Kenobi.”_

_“I told you it was okay to call me Obi-Wan,” he reminded the youth. Warning bells were ringing in the back of his mind, something was wrong. “We’re technically brothers remember,” he added, because as jealous as he was of the child who his Master wanted – chose – he couldn’t lay blame on the innocent._

_The blonde Padawan perked up a bit at that, his lips quirking upwards and his eyes brightening._

_“I’m certain Master Qui-Gon will help you, young one. I know he can be difficult to read, but he is rather invested in your learning.”_

_Anakin nodded. “Okay… thanks Obi-Wan…”_

Obi-Wan had left Anakin with a fleeting, somewhat insincere apology, selfishly running away. He hadn’t sought out Qui-Gon and told him what had occurred, hadn’t ever checked in to see if Anakin had found help, he’d just… walked away, washing his hands of any responsibility for the well-being of young Anakin Skywalker.

Sighing, he accepted the penance for his choices, and pressed play once again.

“I guess, if it just was the little things, I might have been able to pull through. But it wasn’t. There were big ones too. The first was when I walked away from my Mom, the woman who selflessly let me go. The second happened the moment I stepped inside the High Council Chamber for the first time.

“You have to understand how happy I was, how excited - how driven - I was to impress the Jedi Masters. And you, you encouraged that excitement, despite knowing that my future was yet to be decided. So, at the age of nine, I stood alone in the middle of the ring of chairs, trying not to think of how it reminded me of the slave selling pits on Tatooine. I answered questions, I completed a test and then I waited to be told I could stay… But that confirmation never came. Instead, Master Yoda quizzed me about my Mom, who I missed so much, and proceeded to tell me that my attachments would lead me to the dark side…

“Turns out he was right,” Anakin stated darkly, his tone ice cold and his gaze hard. “But it didn’t have to be. I can't tell you how much a positive start to my time at the Order might have changed things. We set off on the wrong foot, and honestly, we never recovered. Because from there, things didn’t get much better. The other Padawans, upset that I stole one of the few available Masters, segregated and bullied me, the Masters begrudged me and my way of dealing with all this was to lash out at everyone; to get angry. And that scared you, didn’t it, Master?" he sneered, his mouth curling and his hands balling into fists at his sides.

"It reminded you of Xanatos and you instantly distanced yourself from me!" Anakin growled, the memories clearly causing him pain. "You were the only person I had, you were my fa— Master and I didn’t know how to cope without you..."

Anakin sighed sadly. "I—I was eleven when I first nearly ended it, you know. I stood on the balcony one night for a very long time, thinking how much easier everything would be if I ‘fell’. But, that was the night that Obi-Wan came home on extended leave. He’d been told by the Council to return, that he needed a break, and I still remember how tired he felt as I cried in his arms.

"I never explained why I sobbed for so long, and he never asked, he just held me until I was so exhausted I fell asleep. And then he helped you, and everything improved. The three of us were a family, and even though the Order still made everything so hard for me, during that time I felt safe and loved and relatively happy. Obi-Wan and you worked together to help me with my studies and I finally caught up with the other Padawans, and we were finally cleared for missions," Anakin recalled, a gentle smile momentarily lightening his features, reminding Obi-Wan of a different Anakin.

"We were both so excited about the prospect of getting out of the Temple. You had felt trapped there for years while I was grounded, and I had come to loathe all but our apartment and the dojo. Without the added stresses that our home strapped to our shoulders, we should have grown closer… but we didn’t. Every single day we spent together one-to-one you realized how like Xanatos I was, and I realized how unlike my Mother you were.

“You’re holding me back!” I spat at you after a mission failed because you wouldn't trust me. “I will not let you advance while you are still so impulsive, reckless, untrustworthy and dangerous,” you growled back. I was never able to unhear those words, and I started spiraling down, and this time, I took you with me," he said darkly.

"When we returned to the Temple, after that mission, there was another of those invitations from the Chancellor that I used to get. They had been coming for years, ever since I was dubbed the Hero of Naboo, but never once did you allow me to open them. “Sorry Anakin, but politicians are not to be trusted,” you’d say. Anakin snorted and shook his head, a small, twisted smile on his face. “That day, though, just after I had turned fourteen, you handed it over. I don’t know why. I guess you didn't have the energy for another argument. And it was both the best and the worst thing you could have possibly done.

"That day stands out in my memory as one of the best I had during that period. The Chancellor treated me like the grandson he didn’t have, but had always wanted. He had ice-cream brought to his office, just for me, and we played pod-racing games on the holonet. And we talked for hours – mostly about you, Master, but also about the Jedi, and how much I missed Obi-Wan," the Knight admitted.

"You know that’s the real reason why the Senate requested him for the rest of that rotation. I mean his amazing negotiation skills didn’t hurt, but truthfully, an old man was making a carefully planned powerplay, one which guaranteed him my friendship and my loyalty for years to come."

Anakin paused, then let out a long sigh.

“I never understood how Palpatine knew my heart after one conversation, when you, the man I thought of as my Father, didn’t seem to understand or care how I felt. So when Palpatine suggested it was because you were a Jedi - because how could a Jedi possibly understand someone else’s emotions when they didn’t allow themselves to feel - I latched on to the idea and, over time, it made the gap between us wider. I stopped going to you when I felt sad, scared, disappointed, anxious, angry, regretful, and depressed because I was sure you wouldn’t understand. You stopped asking because I lied, making you believe I was okay… happy even… that I had found my place. But really, I was mess, so lonely, so angry and so lost.”

Obi-Wan let out a whimper and willed his fingers to press stop before burying his face in his hands. He recalled when Anakin had wept for hours in his arms, he remembered how contented they were after that, during those four standard months he was on forced leave, and he could summon up the image of Anakin’s bright smile when he saw them off for their first mission. And, he remembered the troubled young man he had met up with years later, when the Senate had requested his help with in-house negotiations…

_Obi-Wan shuddered as he watched Anakin’s training ‘saber tear through yet another droid. It looked as though the fourteen-year-old had activated every training bot that the Temple owned to complete his practice, which had him confused. “Don’t you have any friends, young one,” he had wondered out loud, in barely a whisper. His confusion was quickly replaced with concern when he saw how much anger the boy was calling on during his fight. He was not one with the Force, not even close, he was a blur of rage as he drew on his own dark emotions to destroy. Metal twisted as it melted, the eerie red lights in the droid’s eyes flickering out as they fell to a heap on the ground with.… and frankly, it was terrifying._

_“ANAKIN! THAT IS ENOUGH!” he snapped eventually, no longer able to stand and watch while the boy danced along the edge of the darkness. The words were so loud, and so strong, the Padawan jumped in surprise, and barely managed to duck in time as a droid swung at him._

_“End duel!” Anakin growled at the droids, which immediately halted. “Initiate return and run diagnostics. Then shut down,” he added, watching as the droids that still worked instantly turned and rolled back into the dojo’s storeroom in a single line. Then he turned to look at Obi-Wan, a twisted frown on his face and his eyes narrowed into a glare. “What do you want?” he spat._

_Obi-Wan’s eyes widened and he let his hurt and shock leak through his shields and into the Force. “I believe I promised to seek you out as soon as I returned,” he replied quietly._

_It was like someone flipped a switch in the boy’s brain, how quickly the anger was pushed aside by his shame, self-loathing and misery. He hung his head, his eyes trained on his boots as the Force began to vibrate with emotion._

_“I-I did… I’m sorry-- I didn’t mean…” he stuttered, trailing off when he couldn’t find the words to say what he wanted to._

_“Anakin, you need to let go.”_

_Anakin’s head whipped up, revealing wild eyes and lips curled into a snarl as the anger returned as quickly as it left. “No—NO! I won’t! You can’t make me! You’re not my Master!”_

The real meaning of that last sentence hadn’t been obvious back then, but it was glaring at him now. And Obi-Wan hated himself for missing it. It had taken hours to get Anakin to calm down, he’d had to drag him to the hangar and practically invent a new form of meditation to help him find peace.

Talking to Qui-Gon about it afterwards had been even harder. The stubborn man had not wanted to hear what he had to say. And of course, Anakin just happened to return to the apartment in time to hear Qui-Gon confirm years-old words.

_“He is just a youngling, Master, he still has time, I was angry at his age, remember…”_

_“No, Obi-Wan. You were right, Anakin is dangerous. I was a fool not to listen to you...”_

The tremor that rolled through the Force, almost knocking him over, was what made them spin around to find Anakin standing in the doorway with tears in his eyes.

“Perhaps I should have taken him on,” Obi-Wan murmured to himself, carefully considering what might have happened if he had been bold enough to offer. He shook the thought from his head, knowing that pondering what-ifs would only make this harder. Stretching out his fingers once again, he clicked the play button, and his heart ached as the holo of Anakin appeared before him once more.

“I remained that way, sometimes worse, sometimes better, for years. Our bond slowly faded away as I turned to Palpatine for help with my feelings, and Obi-Wan and his friends for help with my studies. The time we had to spend together, mostly when we were on missions, was tense and quiet, almost strictly professional. I was no more than your student, and you were no more than my teacher. And, _kark,_ it hurt so much,” Anakin admitted.

“I tried, once more to reach out to you, when I was older and a little wiser. It wasn’t long before Geonosis, before the war. I was having nightmares, do you remember? I came to you, for the first time since I was fourteen-years-old. I told you I was seeing my mother, suffering alone on Tatooine and you replied, ‘dreams pass in time...’

"You weren’t wrong, they did pass.They ended the day my mother died from the injuries she suffered at the hands of Sand People on Tatooine!

“THEY TORTURED HER UNTIL SHE DIED, MASTER!” he yelled suddenly, making Obi-Wan jump in his seat, his heart suddenly racing. He watched as Anakin dragged the sleeve of his robe across his face to stop the tears. It didn’t work. He was every bit the mess he had admitted himself to be, bruised and broken by life.

“You were meant to be so much more to me!” he choked out, his tears turning into sobs. “You freed me, you brought me back here, you fought for me… and then as soon as I showed-“ Anakin’s voice broke and he closed his eyes, “that I _was_ dangerous, you didn’t want me! I suppose I should be grateful that you didn’t throw me away like you did others, but then again, that might have been better. That might have hurt less…” The holo trailed off, his eyes re-opening as he found some semblance of calm.

“It wasn’t until I was a Knight, ‘til you had shed all responsibility for me, that we reclaimed something of the happiness we had when I was eleven. Though, it only existed when Obi-Wan was at home, and it shattered into pieces far beyond repair when I left the Order."

Anakin sighed sadly. “I think what's worst of all is I still miss you. Even though our relationship was never a healthy one, I still wish you would be the Father I longed for. That I could go to you and talk about how I feel right now. I wish we could sit down for just one more of our “family dinners” in the apartment, with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka. That we could all laugh one more time as Obi-Wan shooed you out of the kitchen grumbling about your hopelessness. That Ahsoka would give me that sly smile of hers, once more, her eyes twinkling with delight as you launched into a horrible story from my training. That Obi-Wan and I could talk freely, again, until the early hours of the morning, long after Ahsoka had drifted off on the couch and you had disappeared into your room. But I, well, it’s too late now, isn’t it?”

Obi-Wan looked down at his hands mimicking holo Anakin who hung his head. “I know what most of you are probably thinking. I know you’ve realized I was - possibly still am – attached. That I still think of him as my Father, despite his attempts to hold me back. And you’re judging me because if I was a proper Jedi I wouldn’t be like this, I would have let all the emotion go. But that wasn’t me, remember. I might have been a slave, but I spent the first nine years of my life in a home full of selfless love. My mother, who I so willingly left, who I wasn’t able to - wasn’t allowed to – save, gave me that gift; that bright warmth that holds you close and chases away the dark, no matter what. I missed it, I _needed_ it …

“But you never trusted me with your heart, so I didn’t find it during my years with you, Master," he revealed miserably.

Obi-Wan blinked away more tears as his heart and soul cried out for his old friend, but it hushed and an icy chill traveled down his spine the moment the holo of the young man lifted his head and snarled.

“And while I was desperately searching for it elsewhere, the darkness crept in.”

 


	3. Aayla Secura

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all the lovely people who left feedback! You are wonderful :)  
> Please note that I have tidied up the first chapter a little. I was very excited about this idea (I still am) and I realize now that I rushed the posting of it. I have also, for now, taken down the non-con warning because I've decided that Anakin, sadly, is messed up enough that this could have happened without it.  
> Also, before anyone starts to panic, I am a Aayla fan and as the story progresses (or if you are keen enough to do some research) you will find out the reasons behind her actions.

 

Obi-Wan threaded his fingers into his hair, dreading the idea of moving on to the next disk. None of them were labelled and after the agony of listening to his Master’s he wasn’t sure that he could survive watching his own. Seeing him, hearing him, all the while knowing he would never be there again, made Ventress’ mental and physical torture on Rattatak seem like a walk in the park. And honestly, he wasn’t sure that he was strong enough to endure that much suffering.

Closing his eyes, he barked out a sadistic laugh as the last word echoed in his own mind. Perhaps he could; infinite saddness was his destiny, after all.

Deciding he needed a break, Obi-Wan dropped his hands to the table and used them to push himself up. Halfheartedly, he went through the motions of making himself presentable – showering, trimming his beard, cleaning his teeth and redressing in new robes. After making himself a bitter caf in a disposable, take-away cup, he stepped out of the apartment with vague plans to eat some lunch and maybe meditate. But instead, he found himself traipsing towards his old Master’s apartment, desperate to talk with someone who understood.

The handsome Knight was halfway there when he realized he could feel someone watching him. Lifting his gaze from his feet, where it had been fixed since he left his rooms, he glanced nervously around the ancient halls. It was a relatively busy time of day in the Temple. Classes recessed for mid-day meal so the halls were filled with initiates and young Padawans who were making their way to and from the refectory. Numerous sets of eyes met his. Some wide and curious, others squinted and warm, but none held the accusation he expected to find in the gaze of Anakin’s chosen watcher.

Speeding up his pace, he tried to let go of his guilt at not watching all the holovids sequentially and his fears regarding his stalker. But his efforts were futile and he was left feeling all the worse for trying. Thankfully, it wasn't long before he was stood before the door marked 'Jinn'.

Groaning inwardly when he noticed that his Master had disabled the door bell, he knocked loudly and hoped that the Maverick would answer quickly. He shifted nervously on his feet as he waited, wondering what he would do if his old Master had decided to hide away from him too. Panic began rising in his chest, but it was quickly squashed when he finally heard feet shuffling towards the door. And when it opened, he understood why Qui-Gon had taken his time.

A growl ripped from the Knight’s throat as he pushed past his inebriated Master.

“Not that I blame you, but this is not the answer,” he snapped, ignoring the voice in his head that told him the statement was slightly hypocritical of him. Scanning the room, he quickly found the bottle of Corellian Liquor on the kitchen counter and made a beeline for it, promptly throwing it in the trash receptacle along with his caf cup. Then he moved to the table and sat down with his head in his hands.

“I see you found them,” Qui-Gon murmured as he followed, stopping to fish the bottle out of the bin before joining him at the table.

“Did you leave them for me?” Obi-Wan asked.

Qui-Gon sighed and drained the glass of amber liquid that must have been in his hand the entire time. Obi-Wan’s eyes flashed with anger when his Master reached out for the bottle to pour himself another. Lifting his hand, he Force pushed both the bottle and the glass across the room, regretting nothing when they shattered.

The Jedi Master glared at him. “Of course not, you’re one of the last disks,” he informed Obi-Wan. “You would know that by now if you were where you should be: watching them.”

Obi-Wan frowned. “Were you able to watch them all in one sitting?” he asked, curiosity lacing his, now, gentle tones.

“Twice,” Qui-Gon admitted, his gaze flicking to the shattered remains of the bottle on the ground.

“Karking hell,” Obi-Wan swore, earning himself a raised eyebrow from his Master. “I can’t- I just can’t do it. Seeing him like that...” he trailed off, his gaze dropping to the table.

“I know,” Qui-Gon croaked. “I’m surprised you came here. I didn’t expect you to come back… not after watching my…mine.”

“Oh Master,” Obi-Wan sighed. He picked up a stylus that was sitting on the table and began twisting it with his fingers, channeling his nervous energy into the repetitive action. “I’m as much to blame for what happened on Naboo, and thereafter. I _saw_ so much and I never said anything to you or anyone else.”

Silence was his response and when he looked up to find out why, he found Qui-Gon staring at him pained and pale, his eyes a bottomless pit of guilt.

“He said you’d do this,” he rasped.

Obi-Wan blinked. “What?”

“Anakin!” Qui-Gon hissed in reply. “He said you would blame yourself, even when there was nothing you could have done. For Force sakes, Obi-Wan, go home and watch them ALL!”

Obi-Wan’s frown deepened as he tried to decide whether the foreboding feeling that twisted in his stomach was because leaving Qui-Gon in this state was a terrible idea, or because he didn’t want to return to his apartment. He decided to cover his bases.

“I will, if you promise to stop drinking,” he negotiated.

His old Master’s face twisted into a snarl, his eyes silently berating him.

“It’s a cop out, Qui-Gon!” Obi-Wan snapped in reply, startling the man. He never would have done this before. He held his Master in high regard and it was in his nature to keep the peace, so he understood why his Master recoiled at his words. But, keeping his mouth shut hadn’t helped Anakin and it was sure as hell not going to help Qui-Gon. “You’re allowed your grief, but shutting yourself away every time you are hurt – or scared – is a big part of what got you on that holovid in the first place. I know Anakin means – meant – to hurt. He was always good at projecting his feelings onto others, but I think that… I think he hopes we’ll change. So, _do_ _better_.”

Obi-Wan watched as his Master was, for probably one of the few times in his life, left speechless. He had never seen Qui-Gon look so chastised, and it made Obi-Wan wonder what else Anakin had revealed about him.

The man must have sensed his thoughts because his next words cut deep into Obi-Wan’s heart. “Enough to know that I should be grateful that I haven’t had _three_ Padawans take their lives due to my foolishness.”

Obi-Wan felt the durasteel walls he had built around himself shudder as the words sank in. He stood, swallowing back tears that threatened to fall and began to leave.

“No!” his Master growled, grabbing his wrist as he walked past and pulling him back so they faced one another. “You said to do better. I know you don’t want this _now_ , that it it’s too much… but - small gods - I am sorry Obi-Wan! I’m sorry I didn’t choose you. I’m sorry I repeatedly pushed you away. And I’m sorry that I made you feel as though you weren’t enough… because you are.” Tears poured down Qui-Gon’s cheeks and his body shook, vibrations spreading through Obi-Wan's arm from where the man gripped it. “You always have been, I’ve just been so… _blind,_ ” he added in barely more than a whisper.

Obi-Wan trembled, his own tears streaming down his face. He didn’t trust himself to speak. He was overwhelmed; Qui-Gon was right, it was too much. Anakin’s death, his return to the Temple, the memories, the holovids and now this…

“I-I need-“ he rasped, stopping when he realized that he didn’t know what he was going to say next. Space? Time? To meditate? To _let go_? He brought his free hand to his face and covered it, then focused all his energy, once again, on just breathing. Calming, he lifted his hand from his face and placed it on top of his Master’s. “Damn-it, Qui-Gon!” he cried, his voice breaking. “I didn’t come here to throw any of this in your face. The choice was Anakin’s alone, even if there were contributions… I would never- I may not have felt like I was enough but deep down I knew I was loved. So, if you are looking for forgiveness for how you made _me_ feel throughout my apprenticeship, my Master, you already have it.”

Qui-Gon broke. He let go of Obi-Wan and brought his hands to his face, hiding it from view. Relief, regret and pride resounded in the Force as the man’s shields slipped away, revealing his usually heavily guarded heart.

“Stars, Qui-Gon!” Obi-Wan exclaimed at the darkness rushing into the Force as his Master finally let go, sobbing relentlessly.

“Please- Obi-Wan,” his Master cried desperately. “Please, I know you aren’t as balanced as you normally are, but I need help and there isn’t anyone else I can ask…”

Obi-Wan disagreed, but he acquiesced none-the-less. He collected two meditation pillows from the hall cupboard and placed them by the window. Silently noting that the blue sky was now splashed with pinks and oranges, he smoothly sat down on one of the cushions as his teary Master sat on the other. Mirroring each other with palms pressed together, they closed their eyes and sank deep into the Force. And for a time, that was all there was.

 

 

It was late when they both arose from the calm, quiet depths. While he felt better, returning to reality was a bit like waking to a slap in the face. The war was still being fought, he still had a mountain of reports to complete, there were still holovids to watch, and Anakin was still gone.

Sighing, he rose and handed his cushion to Qui-Gon. “You should have some dinner and try to sleep. I will check on you tomorrow,” he told his former Master.

The older Jedi nodded, his lips twisting into a shadow of a smile. “Thank you, Obi-Wan.”

The Knight nodded, his eyes softening. “You are welcome, Master mine,” he replied. “You should talk to someone… a mind healer, or Master Yoda. You need more help than I know how to give.”

Qui-Gon held his gaze. “I disagree,” he said pointedly, “but I will consider it, Padawan.”

Satisfied that his Master would be alright, Obi-Wan made towards the door.

“Good night, Obi-Wan,” the man whispered behind him.

Obi-Wan sighed inwardly and sent the same well-wishes back, even though he knew that there would be very little that was good about their nights. Palming the door, he walked out into the now silent halls, his foot falls echoing in the still night air as he strode quickly back to his room.

Blue-gray eyes flicked around nervously as he walked. He couldn’t help but wonder if the watcher had waited for him and was now lurking in the shadows, making sure he returned to do as Anakin instructed.

Obi-Wan wasn’t a stranger to being stalked. On missions, eyes often followed him as he carried out his duty. He had been tailed hundreds of times over the years, and had never felt so spooked. A part of him hoped that the watcher revealed themselves soon, another part didn’t want to know.

Due to a combination of his focus and his fast pace, the trek back to his apartment went far quicker, and before long he was tapping out the access code and entering the small space.

Before doing anything else he headed for his top cupboard, pulled down the rancid alcohol and poured it down the sink. He refused to be more of a hypocrite and it was just too tempting having it in the apartment. Besides, the stuff was so old it would possibly make him ill, and, Anakin wouldn’t have wanted him to drown his sorrows in a bottle.

After realizing that he had missed both mid and late meal, he forced down a ration bar, then made himself a cup of tea. Cradling it in his hands, he let the warmth spread through his fingers as he sat down at the table and stared down at the player.

“Stars, Anakin,” he muttered as he realized, for the first time, that Anakin must have built it. Setting his tea down on a coaster, he picked up the device to inspect it. Something inside him cracked at the idea of his friend _building_ the contraption that would carry the words he needed to say. Carefully placing it back on the table he pressed in the next disk, holding his breath as the holo of Anakin came to life, continuing where he left off.

“When I was fourteen, my Master, or maybe Obi-Wan, decided that I needed a friend,” he started slowly, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“After being cleared for missions, Master and I were rarely back at the Temple for longer than a week or two, and during that time I mostly kept to myself. I'd been burned attempting to make friends among my agemates in the first months after my arrival so I'd stopped trying,” Anakin explained regretfully. “It was because of this that I wasn’t exactly friendly when we first met. Do you remember? We had been left to spar, our Master’s disappearing off to have a "caf" at the commissary. I thought it was weird, but you acted like your Master did it all the time, so I went along with it. You were a little older than me, and your reputation in the dojo was already well known so I figured it was a test of some sort. Not wanting to fail, I treated the first hour of our time together with the seriousness that my Master expected of me, and became more and more frustrated as you teased and laughed and behaved as though we were playing some sort of game. I didn’t understand and eventually I snapped and threatened to leave.

But you stopped me, rushing apologies, telling me to relax, that we were supposed to be having _fun_.” A smile lit up his handsome face as he fondly remembered the moment, and despite everything Obi-Wan found that he was smiling too.

“At the time, I only associated that word with the Chancellor, and, when he was home, Obi-Wan. It took me a stupidly long amount of time to process what you were saying and I think, in that moment, you saw the loneliness that I had been fiercely guarding, and decided to do something about it.

Aayla Secura, welcome to your holovid.”

Obi-Wan hit the stop button and brought his hand to his mouth, squeezing his eyes closed. It had been his idea to introduce the two Padawans. He too had seen the loneliness that Anakin spoke of and had convinced his friend Quinlan to talk to his old Master about letting the two Padawans spar. Aayla was friendly and compassionate, and had made a name for herself as a force to be reckoned with in the Dojo, making her the perfect friend for the lost and powerful young Padawan Skywalker. And Anakin and Aayla had obviously agreed as he remembered them spending time together during those years before the war. Before Aayla, and then Anakin, were Knighted. What happened afterwards he didn’t know, but he wished he had asked.

Truthfully, he had assumed that their friendship had fizzled away, like so many of his own, due to time. Being a Jedi Knight had never been busier. They were the lowest on numbers that they had been in years and the war kept them stretched thin. And keeping up with friends fell to the wayside…

_“You can comm me anytime, you know,” Anakin whispered into his shoulder._

_Obi-Wan gently pulled back from the embrace, but didn’t let go. He hung on to his friend’s elbows, a small part of his mind registering how smooth the cloth of his new, civilian tunics felt under his fingertips._

_“I promise to comm when I can,” he replied, wishing he could vow more._

_“You- you understand, right?” Anakin asked for what was probably the hundredth time since he had surprised Obi-Wan with the news that he was leaving the Order._

_Smiling warmly, the auburn-haired Knight nodded in reply because he knew what Anakin was really asking was: ‘We’ll still be friends, won’t we?’_

_“Because I can explain it again,” Anakin added, biting down on his lip._

_“Anakin, I wouldn’t be here to see you off if I thought that you were walking away from me, as well as the Order.” He slid a hand onto the blonde’s cheek, his fingers carding into silken locks and smiled when Anakin leaned into it. “I understand... but I will miss you.”_

_“I’ll miss you too…”_

Taking a sip of his cooling tea, he reached out with quivering fingers and pressed play.

“I guess you’re surprised. In the end, I- I didn’t know whether you ever thought of me as a friend at all. _I_ thought we were close. I looked forward to time spent with you, and you always seemed happy to spend time with me. We laughed and we had _fun._ Plus, you _got_ stuff. You understood the life of a Jedi Padawan and could relate to the hardships of our path. And you did it without discounting my past.

“You made an effort to understand where I came from, and you helped me understand what it was like to be raised in the Temple. You explained why most in the Order found my sudden acceptance and instant apprenticeship to Qui-Gon so difficult to accept, giving me perspective on my peers. You justified the Orders rules and structures without trivializing my disagreements… and in doing all that, you made my life in the Temple _so much better._

“But you know what they say about good things,” Anakin sighed, dipping his head.

“I suspected things would change after you were Knighted. Obi-Wan often walked back into the Temple for a matter of days only to walk out and not return for months. Up until I was Knighted I was _sure_ that this was because being away from the Temple was _better_. That you and the other Knights _asked_ for more missions because you didn’t want to come back. And on the darkest of days I would wonder if part of the reasons you disliked returning was me,” he admitted softly.

“It was during one of those dark days that our friendship ended abruptly. It had been a rough week for me. I’d failed one of my courses – diplomacy I think – and the mission that Master and I had just returned from had been particularly traumatic. So, being the restless Padawan I was, I was aimlessly wandering the halls trying to find some peace… until I spotted you.”

Anger burned in Anakin’s eyes as he stared hard and his hands balled themselves into fists at his sides. “I could hardly believe it. I’d left a comm message for you, letting you know that I was back, just like always, but you hadn’t send any sort of reply! I was furious – but I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. Technology wasn’t infallible. There was a chance that you didn’t get it.

“But when I approached you, when I called your name… I _know_ you heard me... but you didn’t even glance back. You just- you just _ignored me_! Like I was nothing… like I wasn’t worth… like I was still a... It hurt, Aayla! It karking hurt! You were supposed to be my friend!” he choked out.

“I got myself into trouble then, catching up and roughly grabbing your arm. I spat stupid questions and angry words at you, none of which you replied to before Master Tholme dragged me back to Master Qui-Gon. I got the talking to of my life… they were cruel… possibly rightly so but what stood out was that neither of them asked me why I acted the way I did. It became all about my anger and how I wasn’t letting it go!” he spat bitterly. But then his eyes dropped to his feet and the anger left his tones. “Then I was given a formal reprimand by the Council...

“In the weeks following I was miserable. As I saw out my punishment, I came to realize how much I needed you. Even if you weren’t home, just _knowing_ I had a friend – that I had someone who cared about me – had been comforting and grounding. It had been a reason to walk the lighter path, and once it was gone… well, it made it a heck of a lot easier to walk away-“

The doorbell chiming made Obi-Wan jump out of his seat. He hastily pressed ‘stop’ and frantically threw the player and the disks back into the box they came in before rushing them into his room and dropping them on the bed. Then, he briskly strode back to the entrance, took a deep breath, and palmed the door.

A long sigh left his lips when he found a messenger droid facing him.

“Good morning, Knight Kenobi,” it said politely.

Obi-Wan’s eyes darted to the closest window and was astonished to see the sun rising in the distance. He hadn’t thought it had been _that_ long.

“Good morning,” he replied distractedly, his gaze sliding back to the non-sentient.

“This arrived for you yesterday,” it said, handing him a flimsiplast envelope. As he accepted it he wondered who in the galaxy would have sent him a _letter_. Flimsi was rarely used for sending messages. “And Master Windu has requested you meet him in Dojo thirteen at oh-eight-hundred to discuss your current mission.”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows rose, it suddenly seemed wrong to call the support he was offering his Master a 'mission'. “Right,” he muttered. "Thank you."

“Have a good day, Master Jedi,” said the droid, before it rolled away on its single wheel.

After closing the door, Obi-Wan slumped against it, pressing his back into the cool metal as he blearily wondered, once again, what he had done to deserve all this.


	4. Aayla Secura Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been ages. I am so busy at the moment that I blink and a month has passed! Thanks to everyone who has read and left feedback in the meanwhile :) I appreciate it all.
> 
> Please recheck the warnings before reading.

Two hours. He had two hours before he needed to drag himself through the menial, everyday task of making himself presentable so he could be in time for his ‘meeting’ with Master Windu. That gave him enough time to watch the end of Aayla’s vid, and possibly even the next one (if he dared). Of course, that was assuming that the envelope that he was unconsciously twisting his hands wasn’t another request for his time

Obi-Wan looked down at it, studying the unfamiliar, flawless calligraphy which gave him few hints about the sender. Turning it over, he slipped it open and pulled out the note inside.

_Dear Knight Kenobi,_

_I hope you will forgive my breach of protocol in contacting you this way. I have attempted to follow standard procedures but the Temple offices have not been forthcoming in granting my requests to speak with you. As the matter is of great importance to me I felt I had no other choice but to seek out other avenues in order to get this message to you._

_You see, I have in my possession some items that belonged to our mutual friend, Anakin Skywalker, that I believe he would want you to have. I realize your time on Coruscant is limited so I have painstakingly reshuffled my schedule to make myself available to dine with you tomorrow night in my offices. I have taken the liberty of organizing a speeder to pick you up from the Temple Hangar at 1900hrs._

_I am very much looking forward to finally meeting you, Knight Kenobi. Anakin always spoke highly of you._

_Kind Regards,_

_Sheev Palpatine._

_Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic_

Obi-Wan frowned and glanced up at the top cupboard, all of a sudden regretting his decision to pour the only alcohol he had down the drain. “Blast it, Anakin!” he cursed while scanning the words for a second time, chewing nervously on his lip.

The letter raised numerous questions, many of which did not sit well with him. Like: why wouldn’t the Temple offices allow them to speak through normal channels? Why didn’t the Chancellor just send the possessions he mentioned with the droid? What exactly did he have? And what made him think that Obi-Wan would want them?

Worse than the questions, however, was the lack of way to respond. The Chancellor hadn’t exactly ordered him to attend, but he hadn’t invited him either, and the audacity of it implied one of two things. Either the Chancellor believed the role of the Jedi was to serve him, and expected any and all Jedi to jump when he said so. Or he was aware of how much Anakin meant to Obi-Wan and felt confident that the Knight would race to find out what the politician had.

Both reasons were unfortunately perfectly reasonable. The war had blurred the lines between the Order and the Senate and it wouldn’t surprise him if the Chancellor had come to expect the Jedi to act like they served him instead of the Force. However, it was more likely that Anakin had once spoken with the man about Obi-Wan. The Knight had always struggled being discreet, and the Chancellor was a close friend of Anakin’s. There were far fewer secrets between them than those that had always haunted the air between Anakin and he.

_“I trust the Chancellor more than the Jedi!” Anakin snapped at him, only backpedalling when he sensed Obi-Wan’s hurt along their bond. “I don’t mean you, Obi-Wan, I trust you, I do,” he corrected._

_Obi-Wan sighed sadly as he rose from his seat. “I wish that were true, Anakin,” he said quietly before slipping on his robe and heading out of the Knight’s apartment._

Obi-Wan shook away the memory, trying not to think about how that moment had been the beginning of the end of their relationship.

Turning his thoughts back to Palpatine, it suddenly occurred to him that there was also the chance that politician had viewed the discs. He couldn’t fathom why one of Anakin’s greatest supporters would be a reason for his suicide, but he knew how two-faced politicians could be. Things may not have been as they seemed, or, at least, as Anakin had perceived them to be.

“I’ll find out tonight, I suppose,” he murmured, frustrated.

Pushing off the door, he moved to the kitchen and dropped the letter on the bench. Then he glanced at the table and his heart sank as he recalled why the discs and player were no longer sitting on top of the smooth, silver surface.

They were in his room.

The room he had been doing his best to avoid.

Obi-Wan scrubbed his face with both hands and despite Anakin’s once-plea that he was finding more and more difficult to ignore, he let go. He was a Jedi who had been brought up in the Temple. Who had spent his whole life being taught to put emotion aside. He couldn’t- he just couldn’t keep holding on. Though, this time, instead of finding peace he felt numb, like he had been given an anaesthetic for an untreated wound.

With another glance at the chrono on his wrist, Obi-Wan decided that he didn’t have time to stress over this. If he moved fast enough, if he remained focused on the task, it would be okay. That was how he had survived thus far, no point in changing strategies now.

Committed, Obi-Wan darted into his room to collect the box. Keeping his eyes fixed on it, he picked it up, turned and exited, unintentionally slamming the door behind him. Then he hurriedly put it on the table and began unpacking, setting up the vid player as he did so. He had to watch more. Whoever was supposedly watching had been patient thus far, but he couldn't be sure they would react kindly to him spending yet another day moving in and out of his apartment without having made much progress in his viewing. Besides, he wanted to check in with Aayla today, to ask her for her side. The Twi'lek Jedi had never been cruel – not like Anakin had described. He was sure the Knight had missed something.

Slowly, Obi-Wan dropped into the chair (which he really needed to find a cushion for) then clicked play. The holo of Anakin burst back to life, his gaze slowly lifting from his feet and his expression changing as he breathed through his anger and suffering in order to explain.

“You have to understand that unlike the majority of you, I have never considered the Temple to be my home. So beyond the beings who cared about and supported me during my apprenticeship and Knighthood, I had very few ties to it. And that day an important one was lost,” Anakin croaked regretfully. He took in another breath. “I was so angry with you and with myself that I sought out the one man who had always seemed to be able to put me back together. The Chancellor reminded me that day how special I was - how powerful I was - and he sympathized instead of condemning me for my actions. He also suggested I look for some friends outside of the Order, and when I desperately embraced the idea, he offered to help me reconnect with Padme Amidala.” A sad smile appeared on Anakin’s face at the mention of the woman he had married and he brought his hand to his eyes to wipe away the tears that were budding in the corners.

“The former Queen of Naboo and I met on Tatooine when I was a still a slave, and during our time together I had come to greatly admire her,” Anakin went on, “So I agreed, and shortly after Master Qui-Gon and I were given a mission to protect the new Senator of Naboo.”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows drew together and a pensive frown graced his lips. Twice now Anakin had mentioned that the Chancellor had been able to manipulate the way Jedi assigned missions. He remembered the recall that Anakin had spoken of on the first disc, he remembered being frustrated... He had been so close to closing the negotiations. But surely it wasn’t possible? The Chancellor had that power now, yes, but back then he shouldn’t have been able to have a Jedi pulled from a mission.

Anakin gave a strained smile. “Maybe if the galaxy hadn’t been thrown into war I eventually might have found time to repair our friendship Aayla. I might have given you time to explain and we might have become friends again. But it didn’t happen. I didn’t know how to reach out to you, and you washed your hands of me. So I did what everyone seems to think I am unable to do. I let you go, and in doing so, I let go of a reason to stay.”

Obi-Wan only vaguely registered that the disc had ended. Holo Anakin's last words had triggered the return of an unwanted memory that he had buried away long before Anakin had taken his own life.

_“Oh, hey,” Anakin said quietly, guilt splashed across his face, “I didn’t know you were back.’_

_Obi-Wan’s eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t reply. He could feel eyes watching him, and he didn’t want the whole Temple learning about Anakin and his time together. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he asked curtly._

_Anakin frowned then shrugged. “Sure, I guess” he sighed before moving out of the way, revealing the half-packed state of his apartment._

_Obi-Wan forced himself to walk inside, despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to run. The sight of the scattered boxes and bags that were mostly filled with mechanical bits and pieces, were more heart-wrenching than Qui-Gon’s drunken declaration that Anakin was leaving the Order._

_“Were you going to tell me?” he asked, as soon as the door was closed. “Because finding out that you had resigned from the Order from Qui-Gon was a bit of a shock, Anakin.”_

_“I was going to contact you…”_

_“When?” he snapped. “Before or after you’d left?”_

_“I-I”_

_“Be honest, Anakin!”_

_“I- After. Alright! I’m- I’m sorry but It’s not like I haven’t- It’s not like this hasn’t been a long time coming. I told you I couldn’t be here anymore!” he argued, “It’s not you, Obi-Wan. I’m not leaving because of you… I just can’t stay for you anymore! I- I’m just-”_

_Obi-Wan blinked back tears. “Stay for me?” he croaked, cutting Anakin off. “Anakin, I’m not- Surely I’m not the only reason you are here, that you’re a Jedi.”_

_Anakin turned away as a rough sob escaped his lips, and Obi-Wan found himself at a loss for words as he watched the imposing all-powerful Knight slowly fall to pieces in front of him._

All of sudden he was overwhelmed by the desperation he had felt that day. He had rushed to take the man into his arms and held him tightly, just as he had when he had found him standing on the railing of Qui-Gon’s balcony years earlier. But he’d known it wasn’t enough to make the man stay, and it hurt.

Deciding he needed to get out, he abruptly pushed back his chair, stood, grabbed a spare robe from the rack by the door (he must have left the one he was wearing yesterday at his Master's) and practically ran out of the room. Ignoring the concerned looks from passing Masters who no doubt sensed his inner turmoil, he made his way quickly through the winding halls. He considered going to his Master’s apartment, but decided that he would find similar solace in Aayla’s company, and, if he remembered correctly, her rooms were closer.

Obi-Wan jolted as a something slammed painfully into the back of his legs. He turned suddenly, his robe sweeping around him and the palm of his hand reaching for his lightsaber, only to find himself looking down at a tiny mouse droid. The non-sentient was beeping furiously at him, as though he was the one who had run into it! He watched on with raised eyebrows as it reversed a short way then darted around him continuing on with its errands.

“Blasted droids,” he muttered, annoyed. Quickly, he returned his lightsaber to his belt and began walking again. Although, he stopped short when he noticed that he had already arrived.

“Secura,” he read, his eyes glued to the silver plaque on the door next to him. A shiver travelled down his spine and he looked up and down the long hall in the search of the mouse droid. _It's just a coincidence. That's all._

Hesitantly, the Knight reached out and pressed the doorbell, wincing as a shrill ring cut through the silence of the hall. A few passer-bys turned to look at him and he flashed them a sheepish smile. Then he turned back to the door in time to see it slide open and find himself face to face with the stunning, blue Twi’lek.

A long moment passed where they simply stood staring at one another, taking in the minutest of details that hinted at their true state of being. Obi-Wan was sure she could see how bloodshot his eyes were, his untamed hair and the dishevelled state of his tunics. Just like he could see the dark bags under her eyes that she had tried to hide under make-up, her bitten nails, and how her headband wasn't sitting quite right.

“I thought you would come by sooner or later,” Aayla told him in barely more than a whisper. She held open the door so that he could enter. “Have you finished them?”

“No, I- I’ve only just finished your- the second disc,” he replied, stammering a little. He moved right into the living area then turned so he could see her face.

One of her aeyebrows was lifted. “I thought- Didn’t you get back yesterday?” she asked, closing the door and moving into the kitchen.

“I- I did. I’m finding it… hard.”

Aayla’s pretty eyes suddenly filled with understanding. “Of course,” she replied shortly, moving so she could collect to glasses from a cupboard and then filling them both with water at the tap.

Obi-Wan groaned. “I didn’t mean-”

“I know, Obi-Wan.” Walking to him, she pushed the water into his hand and the guided him to the table where they both sat down. “It was always going to be hardest for you.”

“I cared deeply for him Aayla,” Obi-Wan admitted, seeing no point in hiding it (he had viewed enough to know that Anakin must reveal the true nature of their relationship on one of the vids). “But you did too, once.”

Aayla nodded sadly. “I let him down though. I should have sought him out after the confrontation and explained…”

Obi-Wan frowned, suddenly acutely aware of Aayla’s discomfort as it flowed into the Force. Her hands gripped her glass of water so tightly he thought it might break and she refused to meet his eye.

Obi-Wan gently placed his hand atop one of hers. “Aayla, please don’t feel as though you have to explain. I- I am curious, but I if you would rather not, I won’t hold it against you.”

The Twi’lek gave him a weak smile. “Thank you Obi-Wan, but I want to. I want you to understand the circumstances that led to the moment Anakin spoke about because there was far more to it than he knew.“

“I didn’t think you-“

“It doesn’t absolve me, not entirely,” she rushed, predicting his words. “I was angry when I finally understood everything that had happened, and despite knowing better, I never let it go. If I had, we might not be sitting here…

 “Please know that he day Anakin called for me in the halls I was not of sound mind,” she told him quietly, her accented tones somber. “I had just been rescued by Master Vos after being kidnapped, and my time in captivity had almost destroyed me. I was suffering from glitteryl withdrawal and amnesia, as well as an imbalance that was caused by-“ Aayla took in a shaky breath. “using the dark. I- I fell- I was tricked into it- I-"

“It’s alright,” Obi-Wan reassured, sensing her distress. "I understand." It was the truth. Vos had told him some of what had happened, once.

Aayla forced another weak smile. “My state at the time was why I didn’t respond. I barely recognized my name let alone Anakin or his part in my life, or if what he was saying was true or false. Worst of all, was that he didn’t give anyone a minute to explain. He just let his own insecurities take control of him, caused a scene, then pulled away.”

“Anakin’s signature move,” Obi-Wan muttered.

Aayla nodded in agreement. “I know _._ That’s where… That’s how I failed him, Obi-Wan. Once I remembered everything and was able to make sense of what had happened, I couldn’t find it in myself to forgive him. I was furious! He called us friends and yet, as soon as something seemed amiss, he assumed the worst of me! He thought I would turn on him - that I would abandon him - just like that, instead of suspecting that something might be wrong. He never even considered that I…

Aayla rubbed her forehead, closing her eyes for a minute and letting go of the anger which had flared while she was speaking.  “I tried so hard but I was never really able to let go of that anger, and as a result, I never approached him to make peace. Not even when I could see that he was struggling.

“Obi-Wan, if I had just reached out to him... If I had talked to him about what had happened, about falling to the darkside and being put back together by the Council! Maybe he wouldn’t have…” A sob escaped her lips and she turned away..

Obi-Wan was finding a little hard to breathe. “I’m guilty of the same thing.” He too hadn’t done nearly enough despite knowing that his friend had been on the edge once before. He had foolishly thought that the years had healed the boy who he’d found sitting on the balcony railing with tears running down his cheeks.

Aayla barked out a laugh. “You knew then? That he was miserable with Amidala?”

Obi-Wan blinked. “What? No- _No_ … He told me he was happy! He told me...” _Lies. He lied_. Obi-Wan should have known that, considering he’d done the same. “How did you know?”

“He was here, about a week before he… died. I don’t know who he came to see but we passed each other on his way out. He was so unbalanced, and he was- he was broken Obi-Wan, and I- I did nothing but nod my head. I couldn’t find it in me to reach out to him. Not after he abandoned me at my time of need…” Her hand covered he mouth, tears running freely down her cheeks now. “It took me far too long to realize that I had let my emotions rule me that day. And that, by doing so, I had been just as unkind to Anakin as he had been to me. “

“Aayla, you can’t- you don’t even know if he would have accepted your help.”

“You didn’t see him!” Aayla exclaimed. Her disgust at her own actions was written all over her face. “And you haven’t finished them-“ Another sob tore from her throat, “He was so desperate that day, Obi-Wan, that he would have accepted help from anyone!”

“Aayla-“

“He said so, Obi-Wan! On the Discs!”

Obi-Wan swallowed thickly as guilt – both hers and his own – wrapped itself around his chest and throat. Maybe if he had been here, instead of hiding from his heartbreak on the outer rim… He lifted his hand to his face and rubbed at his eyes which were starting to hurt from all the damned crying. Then he forced himself to be the voice of reason, because someone had to be.

“He might have said it Aayla, but you can’t be certain that it would have been enough,” he responded softly as he dragged his hand away from his face.

Aayla was now staring down into her glass, watching as the water's surface was disturbed by the tears that slipped off her cheeks. “Yes,” she whispered, “but it doesn’t...”

“I know.”

Eyes still focused on the glass, she nodded, her mind obviously elsewhere. He dropped his gaze to his own glass, as his own regrets spun like a whirlpool in his mind.

_Obi-Wan squeezed the broken man’s shoulder. “You don’t have to do this alo-“_

_“I’m marrying Padme,” Anakin snapped, cutting him off._

_Shock, anger and horror tore along their bond, and it took Obi-Wan a moment to realize that it wasn’t just his own. Confused and blindsided, he quickly buried his hurt, then stumbled through a reply and ran. “Oh I- I see. Well, Congratulations. I… I am supposed to be teaching a class- I’ll let myself out.”_

Obi-Wan blinked out of the memory thinking that he should have done more. He should have fought for him. He should have left anyway. He should have... done  _something._

“Is everyone the same? Was it all terrible choices and inaction that made Anakin…” He trailed off as a dark look descended onto Aayla’s face that made a shudder travel down his spine.

“No.”

“I see.”

Aayla stood, walked back to her kitchen counter and set her glass on her sink, even though it was still more than half-full.

“You should go home and finish them,”she told him while turning back to face him. She settled against the counter, looking slightly more relaxed now the topic of conversation was shifting away from her.

Obi-Wan glanced at his commlink, noting that he probably didn’t have enough time to start a new one. “I know,” he sighed. “I’ve got to attend a meeting soon, but-“

“With Master Windu?”

“Yes…”

“Postpone it.”

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. One doesn’t just raincheck on the Master of the Order without a-

“Inform him that you have not yet finished the discs. He won’t want to meet with you until you have," she told him matter of factly.

“Oh.” He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was disappointed. He had secretly hoped that Master Windu wasn't on the discs (as unlikely as it was) and that the reason for their meeting was because the man had a mission for him that would take him far away from the Temple. "Why?" he asked quietly.

“It’s complicated - you have to watch the discs,” Aayla replied.“Go home, Obi-Wan. If you want to talk when you’ve seen it all comm me, okay.”

Nodding, Obi-Wan rose from his seat, placed his glass on the counter and headed towards the door. He paused upon opening, and turned his head to look back at the Twi’lek who hadn’t moved. “Thank you, Aayla, for explaining what happened.”

Aayla shook her head. “Thank _you_ for asking - you're the only one who has.”

 


End file.
